


Just For Two

by YamiSnuffles



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiSnuffles/pseuds/YamiSnuffles
Summary: "Crowley felt peace like he hadn't since… since… well it didn't really matter. Before. And he'd been feeling it a lot recently, more than he had any right to. He'd be damned if he was about to ruin it by worrying if he had any right to feel a certain way. Well, he'd be damned either way, so all the more reason to enjoy himself regardless."-Crowley and Aziraphale enjoy a quiet day in the shop.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 108





	Just For Two

As near as Crowley could tell, London had been transformed into a snow globe. Large, heavy flakes drifted lazily down to coat every surface in downy layers of white. As a result, the sort of silence that could only come with a good snow had blanketed the city. It was idyllic. Perfect. Too perfect, really, and Crowley was inclined to believe a certain angel had a hand in it. A suspicion that was strengthened by the fact that said angel had used it as an excuse to close the shop for the entire day, claiming no one would want to be out in such weather.

Judging by the figures that passed the windows all day long, plenty of people actually wanted to be out in that weather. And why not? The sidewalks in Soho were all miraculously ice free, the roads were clear, and despite the snow, the sun was shining most of the day. If ever there was a day to get out and enjoy the winter weather, this was it. Not that Crowley was inclined to point out that fact. He disliked the snow as a rule and the shop being closed meant the door wouldn’t be opening at all hours, letting in the cold. Better yet, it meant he got Aziraphale all to himself.

The angel was currently puttering about the shop, setting his collection into whatever new diabolical order he’d devised and taking his time about it. He picked up one book at a time, drummed its spine thoughtfully in tune to something he was humming, and then ferried it to a new locale with a swing in his step. He’d made a mug of cocoa after the sun had set but had promptly forgotten about it. It had since become Crowley’s charge, and the demon kept it warm in his hands through a minor miracle. In return, the mug warmed him as he sat sprawled on the couch, watching Aziraphale come and go.

Crowley felt peace like he hadn't since… since… well it didn't really matter.  _ Before _ . And he'd been feeling it a lot recently, more than he had any right to. He'd be damned if he was about to ruin it by worrying if he had any right to feel a certain way. Well, he'd be damned either way, so all the more reason to enjoy himself regardless. 

Aziraphale made his way back to his desk and flapped his hands a bit for want of something that wasn’t there. Crowley’s lips pulled back slowly into a smile.

“Looking for this, angel?”

Aziraphale turned. “Hmm? Oh, yes.” His eyes lit up at the sight of the wispy steam rising from the mug in Crowley’s hands. “And you kept it warm for me. Thank you, my dear.”

Aziraphale reached out to receive the mug but Crowley drew it closer to himself instead. “Ah-ah. I’ve been at this for hours. If not for me, you’d have a cold cup of chocolatey sludge waiting for you. I think I’ve earned a toll.”

Crowley quite liked cocoa. He had a sweet tooth, if he was honest about it, but as a demon it wouldn’t do to admit to such a thing. So instead, he used excuses such as these to get a sip. Only, this time, it would seem Aziraphale had a different idea. At the same time Crowley had lifted the mug to his mouth, the angel had bent toward him. Crowley’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead while pink blossomed over Aziraphale’s cheeks.

“My- my mistake,” Aziraphale stammered. “When you said- well I thought- don’t I look the fool. I’ll just-”

Crowley instantly banished the cocoa from his hands and back to the desk where it belonged. Before the angel could shuffle off in embarrassment, he caught Azirphale’s wrist and pulled him in for a kiss. Aziraphale’s lips were comparatively cold against Crowley’s cocoa warmed ones and the sensation sent a shiver down his spine. They melted as one into the kiss, Crowley lifting slightly off the couch to meet Aziraphale as he stooped down to get better access to the demon. Aziraphale licked along the crease of Crowley’s lips and the demon happily allowed him entry. The angel’s tongue against his own was sweeter than any cocoa. A happy sound escaped from between their lips and it was impossible to tell the source.

Aziraphale pulled back suddenly and licked his lips, which had curled into a wicked grin. “The cocoa does taste good. I’d hate for it to go to waste after all your hard work.”

Crowley let out a sharp bark of a laugh. He waved his hand at the mug. “Yeah, go ahead. Wouldn’t want it getting cold.”

Aziraphale’s smile brightened and he wiggled as he gathered the mug up into his hands. He’d only taken a single long sip, though, when he put it back down on his desk.

“What? It’s not cold already, is it?”

“No, you’ve kept it just the right temperature.”

“Then what?” Crowley sat forward. “Not as good when you’re not tasting it inside my mouth?”

Crowley was rewarded with a deeper blush and yet another small wiggle. “Well, I can’t disagree with that,” Aziraphale replied, “But there was, you see, it was just something else I’d been considering for a while. I’m not sure why it struck me again just now and it’s not terribly important. I’m not even sure it’s something you would enjoy but I couldn’t help but hope-”

“Angel, spit it out already. Trust me, if it’s something you think you’d enjoy, I probably would as well.”

“That’s not true! You scoff at the idea of reading with me. You barely ever have more than a bite to eat yourself when we go out. You cringe whenever I so much as suggest the idea of doing magic. And-”

“Alright, alright, alright.” Crowley wouldn’t mention how much he actually enjoyed all those things, even the silly magic tricks. He might not enjoy them himself- or might, in the case of reading, say he didn’t enjoy them- but there was little in this world he liked more than watching Aziraphale indulge himself. Actually, it was probably his favorite thing. Not that he could go and say something like that aloud. “Why don’t you try me instead of deciding right out I won’t like it?”

“Yes, I suppose I ought to do that.” Aziraphale fiddled with the bottom hem of his waistcoat and kept his eyes rather pointedly on his feet. “I’ve been working up how to ask you all day. Is this the right atmosphere? Should I put on music? All rather silly when I think about it now.”

“Aziraphale…”

“Right. Um…” The angel tipped his gaze upward again and unleashed  _ The Look _ . It didn’t matter what he asked, chances were Crowley was going to agree. “Would you dance with me?”

All that hemming for that. Crowley’s heart squeezed with fondness for the silly angel. He got to his feet and took Aziraphale’s hands in his own. “Of course,” he said with a soft smile.

“You… just like that? You made such a fuss when I tried to get you to try the gavotte.”

Crowley jokingly withdrew his hands. “You didn’t say anything about the gavotte. Last time you tried to show me the gavotte, I nearly ended up with a bookshelf toppling over on me.”

Aziraphale put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. “That’s because it’s not meant to be done alone. I was- I was flustered by trying it without any partners. But that’s not what I intended for tonight.” He took a decisive step forward, grabbed one of Crowley’s hands and placed the other on the small of his back. “No steps for me. None of your ridiculous… gyrating. Just dance with me.”

“Yes.” Crowley swallowed hard and forced his voice lower, cool and casual. “I mean… yeah.”

Aziraphale beamed at him. Literally glowed happily in response, lighting up his smile, his eyes, and Crowley’s heart in the process.

Angels didn’t dance as a rule, and while Aziraphale might have flouted that rule in a discreet gentleman’s club once upon a time, he’d been right in pointing out that the steps had been the key. Without clear cut rules to follow, he floundered. Crowley, meanwhile, might taunt the angel by saying demons knew how to cut loose, that didn’t mean they were any good at it. Oh, Crowley still enjoyed himself immensely but even ‘gyrating’ was probably a more graceful descriptor than he deserved. But in that moment, none of that mattered.

Their first few steps were immensely clumsy. Toes were promptly crushed and legs tangled. Aziraphale snapped directions, as though he knew better because of course he thought he did. Meanwhile, Crowley couldn’t help but snipe and snark in response. They managed to knock knees and nearly toppled when they both tried to overcorrect. Rather than fall, they crashed together. And just like that, any bitter feelings dissolved and they laughed.

It was self conscious, as they both realized what fools they were being, and then joyous because after that it worked. An angel who wasn’t supposed to dance and a demon who couldn’t claim to have ever done so well, danced together and it was beautiful. There was nothing extravagant about it. Probably most outside observers would have scoffed. Crowley, though, was delighted. They balanced each other and moved far better together than they ever did alone, the way they always, impossibly, had.

Aziraphale leaned in, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. The demon pressed his cheek against a crown of downy curls so that he could feel the slight vibrations as Aziraphale started to hum again. It was a pleasant sensation, even if it meant they were left more shuffling about than dancing at that point. 

Crowley would have liked to stay that way forever but he’d never been one to leave a question be when it occurred to him. “Why now?”

Aziraphale stopped humming and from the corner of his eye, Crowley could see long lashes flutter. “What?”

“Why after six thousand years did you decide today was the day?”

“No reason, really. Only, like you said, it’s been six thousand years and when the thought came to me as it sometimes does, I thought, ‘Why wait more?’ There’s no reason not to do whatever we please, now that we’re on our own side.”

Crowley tugged Aziraphale into a tight embrace and then reluctantly loosened his grip because it made it impossible to dance. “If we’re playing catch up on everything we couldn’t do before-”

He pulled back further so that he could look Aziraphale in the eyes, enjoy their happy sparkle, and then tilted his head to plant a reverent kiss on the angel’s lips. It was enough that Aziraphale’s feet stopped moving and Crowley had to nudge him back into action.

Aziraphale smiled the small, smitten smile that he saved just for Crowley. “Please don’t imagine that I’m complaining, dearest, but we’ve definitely done  _ that  _ before.”

“Sure, but I’ve still got a lot to go if I want to catch up on all the times I wanted to do that but couldn’t.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. He leaned his head back on the demon’s shoulder with a sigh. “If that’s how it is, then I hope you enjoy dancing because we’ll be doing this far more often.”

Crowley huffed a laugh of his own. “I think I’ll manage. Maybe we’ll even get all fancied up sometime, do it somewhere nice.”

“Perhaps.” Aziraphale shifted. His nose nuzzled against Crowley’s neck, just above the pulse that the demon didn’t need but that sung of his love in place of other music. “For now, this is perfect.”

They were rocking back and forth, little more, but Aziraphale was right. Crowley pressed a kiss to the angel’s temple. “Perfect,” he agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Fear not, Crowley miracled the cocoa so it was still warm for Aziraphale when they stopped dancing.


End file.
